Solstice
by howitfeelstoloveagirl
Summary: Post Break-up episode. Kurt is a mess, desperately figuring out how to cope with the news of Blaine's betrayal. Alone and confused, Santana is also fresh out of a break up and looking for a distraction. They find a home in each other, along with finding out just how cruel the world can be. Kurtana friendship.
1. Chapter 1

"I was with someone."

It was this line that shattered Kurt Hummel's world. He'd known things weren't perfect. Long distance was rough. Being away from Blaine for so long was much harder than he'd ever imagined. He missed him so much, and constantly found himself thinking of him. Kurt had tried to absorb himself in work, trying desperately for a distraction. It had turned out Blaine had needed a distraction too, he'd just found that in a different way. A much different way.

Kurt shook with sobs. He clutched tightly to old, rickety sink, glaring at his reflection in the mirror. His face was red and blotchy, his hair a mess. But for once, Kurt didn't care one bit.  
"Fuck you, Blaine Anderson." He hissed, even though Blaine was nowhere to be near. "I hate you."

Kurt knew that wasn't true. He loved Blaine, he could never hate him. Right? Kurt knew he was supposed to love him no matter what, and he did. But that didn't shake the hurt he felt. The betrayal, the anger. Kurt was living his worst nightmare, and he had no idea what to do.

Kurt's phone buzzed from across the room. Kurt snatched it angrily from the shelf. He barely glanced at it before throwing it into the bathtub. Blaine was calling again. He'd been calling every hour for the past few days like clockwork. Kurt had ignored each and every call. Then there was the constant stream of texts and facebook messages. Kurt just wanted his space, he needed to think. He wanted nothing more than for Blaine to leave him alone. But of course, for that to happen he'd have to tell Blaine that. And communication with him was something Kurt has sworn himself off of. At least for a little while, while he figured everything out.

This was what he told himself. "Figure it out", "think it through". They were easier said than done. All Kurt could think about was how bad he felt, how hurt he was. Why wasn't he good enough for Blaine? Kurt had stayed true to Blaine, as hard as it was. Why couldn't Blaine have done the same? Kurt was so angry at him, so furious. But he kept thinking back to before, before graduation. He thought of the boy in the blazer, with the quirky dance moves and dark curls. Before Blaine would never have hurt him. Before Blaine had been the love of Kurt's life. He was funny and sweet. He always knew how to make Kurt smile, and what the perfect song for the moment was. It was as if this Blaine was an entirely different person to Kurt. He didn't blame Before Blaine at all. It was After graduation Blaine that had cheated. It was he that had broken Kurt's heart in two. Kurt clinged to Before Blaine. He wanted nothing more than to have him back. But could Blaine go back to that person? Could their life go back to how it was before? And most of all, could Kurt go back, knowing now what Blaine was capable of?

Kurt's grip on the sink tightened. He stared at his reflection. Was this his fault? Had he forced Blaine to do this? Kurt knew he hadn't always been the best boyfriend. Maybe he should have listened to Blaine a little more, set aside more time for the two of them. Maybe he should have let Blaine know how much he loved him.  
But something else had been nagging at Kurt. The thought constantly on his mind, not just now but always. Maybe he wasn't good enough for Blaine. Maybe Blaine deserved better. He glared at himself through the mirror. He'd always known he wasn't as attractive as Blaine. Sebastian, for one, had made that quite clear. He wasn't as smart as Blaine, or as good a singer. Maybe Blaine knew this, maybe he got bored of Kurt.

Kurt turned to the medicine cabinet, running his fingers aimlessly over the contents. He wasn't sure what he was doing, he just knew he wanted to do something. His fingers rested on the pack of razors. He hesitated. It wouldn't be the first time he'd done it. Before glee club, Kurt had been so close to suicide it had only been a matter of when. He pulled his hand away slowly.  
"No, you can't go there again." Kurt told himself strongly. He turned around and ran out of the bathroom before he could change his mind.

In a hurry, Kurt grabbed his leather jacket and keys and ran out of the apartment, slamming the door shut behind him. It occurred to Kurt he had left his phone back in the bathroom. He wondered for a moment whether he should go back. After all, their neighborhood wasn't too friendly, especially at midnight. But he really didn't want to have to hear the constant buzzing and think about Blaine again. Besides, who would he call? Rachel was in Lima. So was Finn, and his parents. He was all alone tonight, and suddenly the city seemed very big.

Kurt ran down the stairs two at a time. The halls were dark and quiet. In the lobby he saw a group of men just a bit older than him, huddled in the corner. Kurt recognized a couple of them. They lived a couple floors up from him. It was strange to see them without the usual crowd of half naked girls, but the usual beer in their hands was there. They eyed him suspiciously, some even looked angry. Kurt avoided their eyes and hastily continued out the door. The voice at the back at his head, the one that spoke in his dad's voice, was telling him to go back to his apartment. That it wasn't safe out here, that he had no reason to be out. But Kurt ignored these thoughts. He walked quickly down the street, his head down. He didn't even notice the men follow him out of the building.


	2. Chapter 2

Santana Lopez was in love with Brittany S. Pierce. And that is why she had to let her go. Brittany deserved freedom. She deserved a girlfriend who could be there for her, always. Santana was too far away, she was too busy. She wasn't a good girlfriend for Brittany, not now at least. Brittany deserved better. In order to keep from hurting her further, Santana had had to end things with Brittany. At least for now.

"I'll never stop being your friend, and I'll never stop loving you." Santana had said to Brittany during their tearful goodbye. She'd waved goodbye, and turned to board her flight. She wanted so badly to turn around and run back into Brittany's arms, where she felt safe and at home. She wanted to wrap her arms around Brittany and kiss her cherry lip smackers lips. But for Brittany, Santana didn't. She was letting her go free. It was the right decision, wasn't it?

The plane ride was long and tough. Santana had spent most of it with her face burrowed in her complementary blanket, hiding her tears.

"Are you okay, honey?" The old woman next to Santana asked, lowering her glasses in concern. "You look like you're having a rough day."  
"I'm alright." Santana choked out. "It's... I had to say goodbye to my girlfriend today. Well, I guess now she's just a friend." Fresh tears sprung to Santana's eyes. You're doing this for Brittany, she kept reminding herself.

The old woman rubbed Santana's shoulder soothingly.  
"Love is a lot harder than it is in the movies." She said sympathetically. "I remember when I first found that out."

Santan hiccoughed and turned to the old woman. Her hair was gray and her face aged. Her eyes were a light brown color, warm and kind.  
"What did you do?" Santana asked.  
"I had to break up with my boyfriend, even though I didn't want to. We wanted different things, we were going different places. It wasn't right to tie him down to me. I didn't want to be the anchor holding him back."

Santana nodded, her tears subsiding.  
"That's exactly how I feel." She said. "And it's not like I can never be with Brittany again. When we're older, if she wants to.." Santana's voice trailed off. "I just hope she understands why I did it."  
"I'm sure she does." The woman smiled.

They were silent for a moment. Santana rested her head again the seat and stared off out the window at the blue sky. It was clear and open, like Santana's future. Santana felt a bit of excitement for the first time. She was going to New York City! She was going to live out her dreams. She could do anything she wanted.

"Are you a singer?" The old woman asked.  
"Yes!" Santana turned to her, smiling. "But how did you know?"  
"Singer's are artists. They're dreamers. You look like a dreamer, you have that look in your eye."  
"What look?"  
"Like you are a star. Like you are special. Like you are going to do big things."

Santana laughed, wiping her eyes.  
"I hope so!" She said. "I'm Santana, by the way."  
"I'm Elizabeth." The old woman smiled. She reached into her purse, fumbling through papers. She handed a small card to Santana.  
"Here's my card." She smiled warmly. "Call me if you ever need anything, or even if you just want a friend to talk to."  
Santana took the card from her, her heart truly touched by this woman's kindness. She'd already made one friend, who's to say she can't make more. New York was already starting out good. A new, fresh beginning.  
"Thank you." She said. She hesitated, then leant forwards and hugged Elizabeth.

~

Santana stood in the airport doorway, clutching tightly to her big black suitcase. She took a deep breath. She about to take that first step outside, into New York. This was it. This was the moment that would change her life. She tried to push all the regret away, the "what if's" and "maybe's", she tried to forget Brittany's crying face as she told her it was over.

She put a smile on her face, hoping soon it could be a real smile. Then Santana pushed open the door and walked out onto the street.  
The air was cool, but not too cold. The wind blew her long hair behind her. She buttoned up her red cardigan, trying not to remember it was Brittany who'd gave it to her.

Santana started down the street, her high heeled boots clicking. Her pace was fast, she was eager to get away from her past and walk into her future. She slowed once she reached the main road, whistling and throwing her arm in the air to hail a cab. After a couple minutes, one stopped. She threw her suitcase in and climbed in after it.  
"Where to?" The driver grunted.  
Santana dug into her purse and pulled out her phone. She read off Kurt and Rachel's address.

Santana sat back in her seat, gazing out the window. They drove past Tiffany's, Grand Central Station, Times Square. Santana felt a true smile coming on. This was her dream come true. The only problem was that in her dreams, Brittany was right there next to her.


	3. Chapter 3

Kurt walked down the streets of Bushwick at a furiously fast pace. His anger and confusion was getting the best of him. He wasn't even paying attention to where he was going, just that he had to keep going, as far away from anywhere Blaine had been as possible.

After fifteen minutes or so Kurt started to calm down a bit, and began to take note of his surroundings. He was in a very dark street, filled mostly with old, rundown bars and stores, as well as a handful suspicious people. He realized he didn't know where he was. He reached into his pocket for his phone, before realizing he'd left it at home. Panic set in.

The street lights were so dull, Kurt could barely make out the street name.

"Dawson?" He mouthed to himself. Like that would even help him at all. Kurt knew almost nothing about this area.

He and Rachel spent their free time exclusively in central New York. They went to places like Brooklyn. The only part of Bushwick Kurt spent any time in was the short walk from his apartment to the train station, in which he walked through a park. A shady park, but nothing compared to where he was now.

People around him were starring. Some nudged their friends and whispered. They must be realizing Kurt didn't fit in here. But if they thought he had any money on him, they were wrong. He'd left his wallet at home as well. God, he had been so stupid.

Kurt turned around and began walking quickly in the direction he came. But he very quickly got lost again. He didn't know which roads he'd taken. He was freaking out.

You'd wanted a distraction from Blaine, he told himself. Well, you got it. Kurt turned in circles. He had absolutely no idea what to do now.

"Fuck!" He screamed. "Fuck, Fuck, Fuck!" His voice broke and he slumped against the wall of a shutdown bar, trying desperately not to start crying again.

"Long time no see." Said a sarcastic voice. Laughter followed suite. Kurt turned around to see a group of a half dozen men in dark clothes and beer bottles in their hands. He recognized them instantly as the men from his apartment. His heart sunk like a rock.

"Hi." He said as confidently as he could, his brain working fast, thinking of a way out. But the men were closing in on him, they had him cornered to the wall.  
"Want to hangout with us?" A bearded man asked. "We have something special in mind.."  
"Um, I've somewhere to go..." Kurt said quickly. He looked around for someone, anyone. He caught the eye of a couple of young girls in skimpy dresses. They just looked away.

One of men was so close Kurt could smell the beer on his breath. He wanted to move, but didn't dare.  
"My friends are coming." He choked out. "They are coming real soon, and they'll notice if I'm gone so-"  
"Nobody's coming." The bearded man laughed. "Nobody will notice your absence."

Kurt hung his head, the truth of that statement slapping him in his face. It hurt to realize the truth. The men were getting closer. One shoved his chest up against the wall.  
"Please don't." Kurt whispered. They just laughed.

The first punch, although expected, hurt the worst. Kurt screamed out in pain. He tried to grab his head, but two of the men were holding his arms down. He yelled his head off, screaming for help.  
"Shut him up!" One said urgently. He was punched again, and then a wad of fabric was shoved in his mouth.

Kurt fell to his knees, and then to the floor. He lay there while they hit and kicked him, yelling profanities all the while.  
"You Fag!"  
"Go to hell!"  
"You deserve this!"  
"Fuck you, homo!"

And then it slowed down. They were getting bored. Kurt was dazed, his vision blurred. He could barely make out what they were saying. Something about taco bell and beer. Then the beating stopped. The footsteps and voices grew farther away until all there was was silence.

Kurt wanted to sit up, but he couldn't manage to do it. His head was pounding, his ribs were surely broken. He was finding it hard to breath. He turned over and threw up. Blood and vomit spewed everywhere. Kurt choked out a sob.  
"Help, please." He muttered, resting his head back on the ground.

Nobody came. He gazed up at the sky. Bright lights blurred in his face. Everything hurt. He felt like he was dying. Tears ran down his face. He could think of only one thing.  
"Blaine." He choked out. "Please, Blaine."

~

"Hello?" Santana called out, hammering on the door. "Kurt?"  
She pulled out her phone and sent the one hundreth text to Kurt. She was growing more and more irritated.

In lima, Rachel had told her she could stay with them. She said she was visiting her dads for a bit, but that Santana was more than welcome to go to New York and stay with Kurt.  
Kurt, on the other hand, seemed to have vanished off the face of the earth. He was not answering any texts or calls, from anymore. Rachel was worrying her head off, her plane back to NY had left a half hour ago.  
Santana had a suspicion Kurt was just trying to avoid Blaine. He'd probably turned his phone off a couple of days ago. She was annoyed, couldn't he just read her texts to let her in? Was he even inside? He must have heard her constant hammering and yelling. Maybe he was staying with someone else? But who?

Santana sighed and backed away. She should just go back to the motel, it was no use staying here. As she began heading downstairs her cell phone rang.  
"Kurt!" she gasped, hoping it would be him.

The number was not familiar, but it was a New York Line. She answered on the second ring, heading back towards Kurt's door.  
"Hello?"  
"Santana?" The voice was small and quiet. She stopped in her tracks.  
"Yes...Kurt?" She asked. Something seemed off.  
"Yeah." It sounded like he was crying.  
"Where are you?" Santana asked, trying not to sound so demanding. "Are you okay?"  
"Um." He said. "Sort of. I'm at a hospital in Woodhull. Woodhull Medical Center."  
"What? Why? What happened?"  
"I was stupid, and I went out at night... I was angry at Blaine. These guys, six of them, they... beat the crap out of me."

Santana couldn't believe what she was hearing. Anger boiled up inside her. She was going to go all Lima Heights on these bastards who'd messed with her boy. But firstly, she needed to help Kurt.  
"I'll be there in half an hour." She said, running down the stairs. "I'm in Bushwick, did anybody tell you?"  
"Yeah, Finn, I just called him..." He trailed off. Santana could hear the sadness in his voice.  
"Don't worry." She soothed, hailing a cab as forcibly as she could.

She shoved a business woman out of her way as a cab pulled over.  
"Excuse me-" The woman began heatedly.  
"My friends in the hospital, bitch." Santana snapped, heaving herself into the car.  
"Woodhull Medical Center."

~

Santana shoved a bill into the driver's hand, not even bothering to get her change. She ran into the hospital.  
"Kurt Hummel's room." She said to the receptionist.  
"Are you family?"  
"Yes, I'm his half sister." She lied smoothly.  
"Okay. Floor 2, room 304."

There was a line for the elevator. Santana didn't feel she could patiently wait for she took the stairs, running up two at a time. She walked quickly down the hall, looking at the door numbers. 300, 302, 304. She stopped, standing hastily in the doorway. What would she say? She decided to just act normal, and say whatever feels right. Kurt needed her. She forced a smile on her face and pushed open the door.

Her smile froze at the sight before her. Kurt looked like hell. His body was covered in bruises and bandages. His eyes looked dull and lifeless as he lie in the bed motionless.  
She quickly recovered, throwing herself into the chair next to him.

"Hey." She said.  
"Hi." He mumbled.  
Santana was quiet for a moment. "What do the nurses say?" She asked tentatively.  
"Um, a few days and I can go home. Three broken ribs, but it's not that bad."  
"That's good news!" She smiled. "Then you can show me the city!" She said in an attempt to cheer him up. He remained expressionless. Santana continued.

"I can't wait to see where you work! And if you let Rachel into the vault, you better let me in." She teased. "I mean, we all know I need no makeover, but a new dress can make any girl happy."

He didn't say anything, just watched her silently. Santana sighed, and took his hand in hers.  
"You're really brave, you know." She said quietly. "Not just for last night, but your whole life. You've always had bullies putting you down, and you always came back stronger. I know you'll do it again."  
Kurt looked away. Santana followed his gaze to the window. It was late afternoon now, the sun was setting. A steady stream of traffic noise buzzed through the open window.  
"Did you call Blaine?" Santana asked.

She knew Kurt and Blaine had fought, and that Blaine had cheated, but she knew both boys still cared deeply for each other. That kind of love doesn't just go away overnight. She knew this, because she had the same thing with Brittany. Feelings like that can be pushed aside, even forgotten for a while, but they never go away.

"No." Kurt said.  
"He's probably very worried, I'm sure Finn has told him." She said.  
"No." Kurt said, louder now.  
"Alright, it's up to you." Santana said kindly. She reached for the TV remote, this was sure to take Kurt's mind off things.  
"Ooh look, Kurt, an America's Next Top Model Marathon. Want to watch?"  
Kurt shrugged. "I guess so."


	4. Chapter 4

Santana lay nestled in sheets and blankets, warm and comfortable. She heard moaning. In a half asleep daze she rolled over, pulling the blankets over her head.

"Shatup." She groaned.  
The moaning continued, along with quiet sobs. Santana opened her eyes. She saw the white sheets, the white walls, and immediately remembered where she was. She sat up quickly, guilt flooding her.

Kurt was asleep next to her, but in no way peacefully. He was twisted in his sheets, twitching back and forth. Tears streaked down his face, and his clothes and hair stuck to his body with sweat.  
"Kurt." Santana said, softly shaking him. "It's okay, wake up."

He continued to cry, screaming out in distress. It was evident he was having a nightmare.  
"No, stop, please." He moaned. Santana shook him harder, but he still didn't wake.

Santana looked around for a nurse, wasn't there a button she pressed to call them? She remembered something like that from the late night Law&Order episodes she watched. In her frenzy she remembered another favorite TV show of hers, and a very different idea came to her.  
She turned around and slapped Kurt in full force. His eyes flew open in an instant. Finally, Jersey Shore was coming in handy. Apparently it hadn't killed all her brain cells, Santana made a note to tell her Abuela she was wrong, until she remembered her Abuela wasn't speaking to her.

She lay back down and faced Kurt.  
"You okay?" She asked quietly, pushing his hair out of his face. His eyes were large and filled with tears. He looked so sad, so depressed, Santana's heart sunk just looking at him.

"Not really." Kurt mumbled.  
"Do you want to talk about it?" Santana asked.  
"No." Kurt shook his head. "But..." He trailed off, looking away.  
"What is it?"  
"It's, well, Blaine." He said, still looking away out the window. "He cheated on me, you know."

Santana nodded. She knew this already, and felt horrible for Kurt. She had, of course, cheated before. But that never on a real relationship, never on one as strong as Kurt and Blaine's had been. She could not understand Blaine, why not just end things, why did he have to break Kurt's heart like that?

"What should I do?" Kurt asked. "I haven't spoken to him since. I haven't even broken up with him, not yet anyways. Should I?" She looked back at Santana desperately.  
"Do you want to break up with him?" Santana asked.  
"Yes. No. I don't know." Kurt sighed. "I still love him, but, for him to do that to me... Well, he can't have really loved me." Kurt's voice broke and fresh tears welled in his eyes.

"You don't have to make up your mind now." Santana said calmly. "You're going through a lot, just take your time to think it through. But whatever you choose, we'll all support you." She smiled.

"Thank you." He gave a small smile. It was more than Santana could have hoped for. She pulled him into a hug.  
"I love you." She whispered softly.  
"I love you too."

~

One week later Santana, Kurt and Rachel were sitting in Kurt and Rachel's apartment watching re runs of an old Survivor season.  
"They're going to vote you out, use your immunity idol you stupid bastard!" Santana shrieked at the TV.  
"Two! He had two of them right there in his pocket, but he's too full of himself to even imagine they don't like him." Rachel shook her head. "He's too cocky."  
"Cock." Santana smirked, nudging Kurt with her elbow. He smiled.  
"And look at that, he's gotten himself voted out! Well, the idiot had it coming." Rachel threw her hands in the air. "I'm getting more redvines, you guys want any?" They shook their heads and she walked off towards the kitchen.

It had been a week since the attack, and four days since Kurt's discharge. Burt and Carole, who'd rushed over here as soon as they'd gotten the news, had left yesterday. Begrudgingly, Santana might add.

Burt had been angrier than anyone Santana had ever seen before. He'd stormed around the hospital, swearing and screaming at everyone. Carole had been barely able to calm him down, especially when the police came.

The police had come the second night to talk to Kurt. But they didn't seem very interested. His injuries weren't severe, and there was very little evidence to implicate the attackers. Kurt could barely describe them. It had been dark and they'd been hooded. The sketch artist had been only able to produce a couple very vague sketches.

And, let's face it, the police hadn't been very interested the moment they met Kurt, and realized what kind of attack it was. One cop in particular had seemed homophobic to Santana, making comments about Kurt's high pitched voice and constantly trying to discriminate what Kurt said.  
"You're not sure what they looked like? You can't even tell us the races of them all? How do we know you aren't making this whole thing up?" He'd said.  
"Or maybe you provoked them? Who's there to say they didn't have a valid reason." He added nastily. It was at this point Rachel had had to kick Santana, to stop her saying something she'd regret. She had to admit, she'd been pretty close to going all Lima Heights and assaulting that officer.  
Kurt had remained quiet the entire interview. He'd only spoken when directly asked a question, and even then sometimes it had taken multiple tries to get an answer out of him.

But as the officers were leaving, he'd spoken out. Softly, but clearly.  
"His eyes were brown." He said. "A dark brown, with an eye piercing through the eyebrow in the design of the swastika. I remember their eyes, all of them, I'll never forget."

Santana could practically feel her heart split in two.

They'd brought him home, and for the rest of the week he'd rested. He took his medicine three times a day like clockwork, went to sleep every night with the aid of sleeping pills. He ate, when given food, and watched TV, when it was turned on. But he was distant and quiet. It seemed he wasn't really here. He seemed to stare straight through the TV, not really seeing it.

Burt had wanted to bring Kurt home, but Carole had insisted he stay.

"Running away won't do him any good." She'd said softly, and they'd known she was right. They were, however, planning on moving away from this neighborhood soon. Every morning Santana and Rachel scrolled the newspaper for listings, as well as the internet. They had a few places in mind, but had not yet gone to see any. They didn't want to leave Kurt alone, and he wasn't yet well enough to go out.

"Look what I found in the fridge!" Rachel said happily, coming back to the TV with a brown box. "Cheesecake!" She exclaimed, putting it down in front of Kurt. "You love cheesecake!" She said. "I'll cut you a piece." Kurt just shrugged.

Rachel was doing her very best to cheer Kurt up. She was always laughing and smiling, and bringing out all his favorite movies, songs and foods. Santana knew she meant well, but Rachel's jubilance was only seeming to cause Kurt more pain. His blank expression never left, nor did the deadened look in his eyes.

Santana took a slice of cheesecake from Rachel, digging into it quickly. Next to her, Kurt still hadn't touched him. Rachel's smile faltered, and she sat back and turned on the next episode of Survivor.

Santana watched Kurt. She stared down at his cheesecake almost longingly, yet he didn't touch it. Santana had an inkling she knew what was bugging him. It reminded him of Blaine.  
Santana understood this because she was having the same problem. Everything reminded her of Brittany. Coffee, fondue, cats, and even everyday objects such as hairbrushes and laundry baskets. Santana missed Brittany terribly. She felt like she'd made the wrong choice. But she knew she couldn't go back, because for Brittany, she'd made the right choice. Brittany was better off without her, and going back would just confuse Britt, and screw everything up.

Kurt stabbed at his cheesecake with a fork, glaring down at it. Sometimes, Santana wasn't sure whether he was more upset by the attack, or by Blaine. But there was no denying, Kurt was spiraling into a serious depression, and it was up to Santana and Rachel to pick him back up before he fell too deep.

**Author's Note:**  
**I hope you guys are enjoying this :) I love to read you reviews, so keep them coming! I'm also very open to promps, so tell me what you'd like to see happen, and/or what characters/relationships you'd like to see explored. **


	5. Chapter 5

"Hey." Santana yawned, tying up her housecoat as she made her way into the kitchen.  
"Hi." Rachel said quietly, mixing eggs in a pan. "You're getting up late, it's almost two in the afternoon."  
"Oh." Santana said as she helped herself to some toast.

Truth be told, Santana had been up all night thinking about Brittany. She had this feeling in the gut of her stomach she couldn't push away, no matter how hard she tried. Sometimes she distracted herself enough during the day. She was constantly doing something, even if it was just watching TV. But at night, it all crept back. She felt light headed and sick. She was pretty sure it had to do with leaving Brittany. Even though Santana felt she'd made the right choice for Brittany, for Santana it certainly seemed like the worst.

"Where's Kurt?" Santana asked, looking around the empty apartment.  
"In bed." Rachel shot her a look. Santana sighed.

As upset and withdrawn as Santana was, Kurt was much worse. He was depressed, there was no other word for it. He was disinterested in everything. And they'd know, they've tried everything. It had been three weeks since his discharge from the hospital, yet he still refused to leave the house. Santana doubted he'd even eat if they didn't force him to.

"I'll go get him." Santana walked over to his room, slowly pushing open the door. He was lying still on his bed, but Santana could see his eyes were open.  
"It's almost two." She said.

He didn't say anything. He just looked up at her with those big, sad eyes. It broke Santana's heart.  
"C'mon, Kurt." She said, forcing a smile yet again for his benefit, when in reality she wanted to curl up next to him and lie there forever.  
"We are going apartment shopping today!"

Kurt gave her a last pitiful look before turning away from her. She sat down on the edge of the bed and pushed his hair out of his eyes.  
"Kurt. You have to get up. You have to leave the house today." No response. "You know what I'm saying makes sense." He burrowed his face into his pillow.

"You can't let them win." She said softly. "Don't let them destroy your life, don't let them hurt you anymore than they already have."  
"I can't." Kurt said quietly, his voice muffled.  
"Yes, you can." Santana pulled him over onto his back. His eyes were shining with tears.  
"Not without Blaine."

Santana bit her lip.  
"Well, Blaine's not here. You can call him if you want, and make up." He shook his head viscously. "Then I guess you'll have to just make do with me and Rachel." She gave a small laugh.

"Why did he do that?" Kurt whined.  
"I don't know."  
"I miss him."  
"And I miss Brittany." Santana said, and before she could stop herself tears came pouring out of her eyes. Kurt blinked.

He sat up and swung his legs over the bed, standing up with only the smallest titter. Then he walked over to her and wrapped his arms around her.  
"It'll be okay." He whispered to her.

Santana would have laughed at this turn of events, had she not been so overwhelmed. The tears fell thick and fast. She hid her face on Kurt's chest, clutching onto his T Shirt for dear life.  
She had to admit it felt better to lose control. She felt as if for weeks she'd been bottling everything up and now she was finally getting it out. Kurt was rubbing her back, his hands warm and soothing.  
"I guess it's good we have each other, to help us." Santana smiled through her tears.  
"Yeah." Kurt said quietly. "Cause people really suck sometimes."  
"You can say that again." Santana laughed.

"Are you sure you want to move here?" Kurt asked her. "New York is a big move, I mean, if you aren't ready..."  
"I'm ready." She said confidently. And it was true. As more time passed the more Santana realized how ready she was for this. She felt like she belonged here. The only problem was she wished Brittany could be here with her.

~

Santana and Rachel had found three apartments that fit their criteria. They'd have done this faster, if it weren't so hard to find a cheap apartment, yet in a good neighborhood. And nobody wanted to ask their parents for any more financial help.  
"So." Rachel said matter of factly. "We are going to these three apartments today. We'll have a look around, and then by the end of the day we need to have decided on one to rent out. They are all in Brooklyn, not far from NYADA or . Does everybody understand the plan?"

Santana and Kurt nodded.  
"Good, now grab your jackets and whatever else you need and lets get moving." Santana half expected her to start snapping her fingers after them.  
"No, not that one, Kurt! It'll be cold, go grab something that will keep you warm!"

"Should I just start calling her Mom?" Santana whispered to Kurt.  
"That or Hitler." Kurt snickered.  
Santana smiled widely, although more so because she'd made Kurt smile and that was something rare.

"It's three thirty seven and we are expected there at four! Hurry up!" Rachel insisted, holding the door open for them. Santana hurried out, Kurt close at her heels.

In the lobby Kurt hesitated, looking at the doors with wide eyes. Santana could only imagine what he was thinking of.  
"C'mon." She slipped her hand in his. "Rachel will slit our throats if we don't hurry."

They made their way quickly to the train station, practically running through the park.  
"Anyone need a top up of their crack?" Santana said sarcastically as they passed about twenty probable drug dealers.  
"Not now, we have a train to catch." Rachel looked at the time on her phone for the millionth time that minute.  
"Still 3:51."  
"Shut up, Santana."

They just barely made the train. They ran through the subway and flung themselves through the closing door just in time. As they straightened their clothes, the people around them shook their heads and chuckled.  
"Oh my gosh, we forgot to pay!" Rachel turned to Santana and Kurt in horror. "Oh my gosh, Oh my gosh, what do we do? This is illegal! We could be arrested!"  
"Relax, Rach." Kurt laughed. "It doesn't matter if we forgot this one time. But if it makes you feel any better, we can leave some change on the train floor."

Santana laughed, but Rachel continued to look worried.  
"Nobody gives a damn about illegal riders." Santana said. "I've done it hundreds of times. Plus, I doubt half the people on here paid."

They glanced around them. Apart from the businessmen and women, most of their companions looked too poor or too high to have paid.

"Where's my banana?" One particularly intoxicated young man was asking his equally intoxicated friend.  
"I dunno, man." His friend slurred. "But does my hand look smaller to you?"

Rachel smiled, relaxing a little.

The first apartment seemed promising. The rent listed was right at the bottom end of their budget, and it came equipped with two bedrooms and one and a half bath. And to top it off it was just a few blocks from Kurt's office.  
"Well, let's go in." Rachel said happily, dragging Santana and Kurt after her, who were having troubles keeping up with her incredibly fast pace.  
"Can you ever not be moving, for like, two seconds?" Kurt hissed.  
"Nope!" Rachel laughed cheerfully.

Santana watched her friend closely. Rachel had also just gone through a break up, but she seemed on top of the world. Maybe it was different, maybe Finn and Rachel really hadn't been a good couple. Maybe Rachel really was better off without him. Either that, or Rachel was just an extremely good actor.

"Ooh, look, there's a starbucks right next door!" Rachel said, poking Kurt. "Our coffee dates don't need to end in Lima!"  
"I used to get coffee with Blaine." Kurt said shortly. Santana glared at Rachel who for once had nothing to say.

They hurried over to the elevator, but were quickly shoved towards the stairs by an aggravated Rachel.  
"No-time." She gasped as they ran up the stairs. "Four- Ten. Late."

They hurried down the hall until they found room #201. Rachel knocked loudly on the door. They waited, patiently at first, but as time went on they became very impatient.  
"Where is she?" Rachel peered around them. "We aren't that late!"  
"Maybe she's asleep?" Kurt suggested.  
"Or in the bathroom." Santana snickered.  
"This is very serious." Rachel insisted. "We have a schedule to keep!"

The door opened slowly, and a thin woman with large glasses and even larger hair peered around at them.  
"Hello." She said.  
"Hi." They chanted.  
"Sorry we're late!" Rachel said.  
"You're late?" The woman asked in a daze. "Who are you?"  
"Um. Well I'm Rachel, and this is Santana and Kurt. We called about your ad for a renter. You told us to stop by at four."  
"Oh, yes, I did that... Well, come on in. I'll start tea."

They smiled, and waited for her to open the door further. But she walked away, and so Kurt stepped forwards and pushed on the door. It didn't budge. He frowned, turning to Santana and Rachel.  
"Are you seriously that weak?" Santana muttered, pushing past Kurt and onto the door. But it wouldn't move.  
"What the hell?" She stuck her head in the ten inch gap and gasped.  
"What? What?" Rachel called to her.

It was as if the apartment was in the middle of a dump. Stacked taller than Santana were piles and piles of junk. There was very small passageways between the junk, which was piled up against the door. There was everything from old cans of beans to china dolls to dusty throw cushions.

Santana and the others slid their way into the room with great difficulty. Santana had to heave on Kurt to pull him through the door.  
"Maybe I should lighten up on the carbs." He joked. Which wasn't true at all because he was eating like a bird as it was.

"It's like an episode of hoarders!" Rachel exclaimed. Santana nodded, staring around in shock. These past few weeks they'd been watching far more reality TV than Santana would care to admit. And like she'd also never admit, she really was starting to enjoy these shows Rachel insisted on watching.

Once they got over the initial shock of how bad the place looked, there was a much more concerning matter at hand.  
"This smells disgusting." Kurt gasped, covering his mouth with the sleeve of his sweater.  
"It's like shit!" Santana said, her voice muffled as she too was attempting to block out the smell with her sleeve. She wasn't having much luck.  
"Shit, literally." Kurt pointed to a pile of soiled diapers in the corner.  
"I don't even want to know." Santana said.

"Can we leave already?" Rachel whined, tugging on Santana's sleeve.  
"Should we say goodbye?" Kurt asked uncertainly.  
"She didn't even remember we were coming, I doubt she'll remember we were here." Santana said, squeezing back out the door.

"Does she really think someone would want to rent that place out?" Santana exclaimed, still gagging from the smell even though they'd been walking in the fresh air for five minutes.  
"To be honest I don't really think she was all there." Kurt said.  
"We should call someone, the landlord maybe? Let them know. She probably needs help." Rachel worried aloud.  
"We'll let you handle that." Santana laughed.  
"Like everything else." Rachel muttered.  
"Tell me you don't like the control!"  
"Okay, well, kind of." Rachel's cheeks flushed. Santana rolled her eyes.

"The second apartment is right up here." Rachel glanced up from her map at a tall apartment building in the heart of Brooklyn.  
"How can we afford this one?" Santana cocked an eyebrow.  
"Erm." Rachel looked sheepish all of a sudden. Santana looked at her curiously. "Well, you see, I- I might happen to know the owner's son..."  
"What?"  
"The owner's son, he's a friend of mine, he told me about this place and said his dad agreed to give us a reasonable rent price. But, of course, we have to look at it first."  
"Well lead the way!" Santana said, aghast.  
"Rachel Berry the flirt." Kurt smiled. "I'm so proud."  
"It's like I always say," Santana said as they mounted the elevator, pressing the "3" button. "always use any asset you have, and if that means a push up bra and some slutty dress, go for it."

Rachel hurried quickly out of the elevator, her cheeks still red, and knocked on the door "27". Almost immediately the door opened, and in the doorway stood an attractive young man with dark hair and a crystal white smile.  
"Great to see you again, Rach." The boy said smoothly.  
"Brody!" Kurt exclaimed in shock.  
"Who?" Santana asked. Since when did Rachel have this hot friend? Santana sure as hell knew she was a lesbian, but she could still appreciate a hot boy when she saw one. And this Brody kid was piping hot.

They followed Brody inside, and were faced with the most glamorous apartment. They had a magnificent view of the city skyline, and a completely furnished apartment. The kitchen was high end, and the two bedrooms were large and spacious.  
"It's perfect." Kurt breathed. "Just like you'd find on Martha Stewart."  
"I was hoping you'd like it." Brody said. Santana swore he never stopped smiling, or looking at Rachel.

"Good Catch, Berry, now just reel him in and get us this apartment." Santana whispered in Rachel's ear.


End file.
